


Erasure

by Piriluk (orphan_account)



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Angst, Character Death, Death, Dystopia, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 06:39:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6184552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Piriluk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if there was no other choice?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Erasure

**Author's Note:**

> not a new story. something i wrote while in japan. uni has been hectic and my writing muse is gone :'( 
> 
> i kind of liked this idea but... people's reviews on it on ffn made me feel insecure about it.
> 
> not rly rin/len i guess, more like sisterly love kind of?? so yea. idk. rip rin

What if there was no other choice?

.

**Erasure**

.

_ and you are folded on the bed _

_ where I rest my head _

_ there's nothing I can see _

_ darkness becomes me _

_ (but I'm already there) _

 

Was there ever any peace in this place? 

 

I liked to imagine a world different from this - where people could smile and laugh just as easy as it was to be killed.

 

Here, one step out of line meant you were gone, gone, _gone_.

 

Mum had that grim look on her face as always, thin lips forming a straight line, blue eyes worn and watery. Loss should've been easy to take by now, but I learnt no matter how much grief you experience, it never got any better.

 

This time, it wasn't the neighbour. It wasn't the cat. It wasn't grandpa or a cousin.

 

It was Len. My brother. Her child. The last person we expected to have us called down to the House of White (and red, and tears). 

 

He was a good kid. He was never ruthless; he always abided by the rules, always followed directions. Maybe he was just too good. Just  _ too _ good.

 

_ (Why wasn't it me?) _

 

A man in a white coat appeared, greying and aged and grim. He wasn't here to deliver good news, by the look of it.

 

“Are you family of Len Kagamine?” he asked.

 

Mum straightened in her seat, blinked away any moisture in her eyes and fixing her clothing. “Yes,” she replied promptly, with a voice like thin glass. 

 

His small eyes narrowed through wiry spectacles. “Please follow me.”

 

So we stood and made our way down a White Hall.

 

“His condition is declining,” the doctor spoke up when we arrived in Len’s compartment. It was busy; people bustling everywhere, sick and injured patients to and fro. “Organ failure. Without a transplant he will die. Keeping him on life support will only drive up the cost.”

 

He relayed the information like he knew we couldn't afford it.

 

Well,  _ no one _ could. Not without consequences, anyhow.

 

“Even if he lives, he will need to go through therapy to regain his strength. His physical state is too poor to recover without physiotherapy.” 

 

An image came to mind, seeing his battered and bruised body the day we rushed him here. Recalling being witness to his limp body thrown around between the gate guards made me want to throw up. 

 

He didn't deserve it, he didn't, he didn't, he didn't.

 

“Oh,” was all Mum could manage.

 

He steered us to a white sheet, pulling it aside to let us enter the small makeshift room. I didn't want to see what I was going to see.

 

In the middle of the ‘room’ rested Len, fragile and pale. His eyes were closed, almost sealed shut, and there were so many wires and machines it was like I was staring at an android or test tube creation rather than my own brother.

 

I turned away and brought up breakfast into a trash can tucked away into the corner.

 

“Rin!” I heard Mum cry, and I waved her away, motioning I was fine.

 

(I wasn't fine, but she had no reason to be worrying about  _ me _ .)

 

After I finished retching, a nurse appeared to replace the trash can, and I resumed listening in to the doctor’s Bad News 101.

 

“If you can't afford it, we have alternatives to make it affordable and pay off the expenses,” he explained. 

 

This was the ‘consequences’ side of treatment in this world. Most of the time you wouldn't benefit. Either way it was a lose-lose situation.

 

Mum’s eyelids fluttered like she knew what to expect.

 

“If you can find a willing donor we can use their organs for the treatment, as well as use their leftover body matter to sell and make up the remaining costs of life support and physiotherapy,” the doctor went on. “The catch is, it must be someone who agrees to the procedure, is in prime health and has the same blood type.”

 

I could feel all eyes on me, yet they weren't even looking. But I knew. I knew who the ‘someone’ was.

 

I already knew what was coming before the doctor said anything.

 

_ “Your brother?” Meiko had said. “Oh.” _

 

_ “What?” I’d asked. I wished I hadn't. _

 

_ Her brown eyes had softened. “They'll try to take you if you're to bring him back.” _

 

_ “What do you mean?” _

 

_ She had paused from wiping the table to look at me.  _

 

_ “Like everything in this world, there's a price that has to be paid - how it's done doesn't matter,” she’d elaborated quietly. “I'm sorry, Rin. I know what'll happen. And I'm so sorry. I really am. You don't deserve this.” _

 

But I weighed up the options, and I did. I did deserve it. I was trouble. I would only bring more grief. Len had it all going for him. I had nothing - I was the one who got him here, for godsake. 

 

I didn't pay much attention to anything else after that. It was more so ‘how long did I have from then’. Even though Meiko told me what would happen I didn't really want to believe it. I hadn't cherished every day like my last. 

 

And to think, if they cut me open, I won't ever get to meet Len again.

 

Then came the dinner conversation. Mum relayed the information to Dad. His eyes immediately went to me. I swallowed down a too-large piece of broccoli and nearly choked.

 

“And Rin knows about this?” he assumed.

 

_ And she'll do it because she knows she's not as important as Len. We need him. We need him more than her to carry on the family business. She can't. Females can't run businesses. All she ever does is create trouble, anyway. _

 

Mum took a breath and looked at me, almost guiltily. “Yes.”

 

I found my voice somewhere, somewhere in the back of my throat. “I- I'll do it. There's no need to ask me.”

 

The pair feigned surprise. “How do you know we're going to ask you?” Dad questioned.

 

“Because,” I began steadily, “I'm the only one who can do it, aren't I? And you need Len more than you need me.”

 

“There's no assuming yet, Rin,” Mum interjected, as if she hoped there would be some miracle triplet to appear and take my place. But miracles never happened. “We can wait a short while. Someone else might be able to do it.”

 

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” I blurted, before realising what I'd said. I turned red and stood from my chair hastily, grabbing my plate to leave.

 

“Where are you going?” she then asked.

 

Over my shoulder, I simply said, “I'm not hungry.”

 

I knew it. I knew from the start.

 

.

 

I didn't know why Len's girlfriend would bother with me at this time.

 

She'd always been so disinterested in me otherwise, like I barely existed. But now she seemed ever-prevalent, like she was desperate to befriend me before I switched places with Len and went to hell.

 

“I think this colour would suit you, Rin,” Miku told me, holding up a dress against my body. She'd invited me out shopping, and all I could think was,  _ funeral shopping _ . Morbid as it was, when else was I going to wear any new clothes I’d buy?

 

But I wasn't interested. I just kept turning the subject back to her.

 

The girl in the mirror stared back at me, pale and dull and halfway down the road to death. I hadn't slept much within the past week. I guess it wouldn't matter once I was dead because I would be sleeping permanently.

 

Miku's smile faltered. “I'm sorry,” she then said. All traces of her bubbly self disappeared. “I know this is probably the last thing you'd want but I’m really sorry about everything, Rin.”

 

Why was it that everyone had to apologise? For what? Why? What was the point? It wasn't like I was a god going to condemn them for not caring. It was better if no one cared, because then I wouldn't either.

 

“I feel guilty,” she whispered, tucking the dress away on the rack. “It happened to my brother, too.”

 

I glanced away from the mirror. “Brother?” I repeated.

 

Miku nodded solemnly, her eyes glistening a little. She then pointed to her body, and said in an awfully fragile voice, “We’re together now.”

 

Slowly, realisation dawned on me. Her brother was her donor. 

 

“I know, I'm the enemy, right?” she continued. I must've looked horrified or something. “I can't imagine what it’s like to be in your shoes. But I feel guilty. Everyday I feel so guilty. I worry about whether his sacrifice will just be a waste, too. If I was there, I would've said no. I would've told them to let me die. I didn't even get to say goodbye.”

 

It was amazing to watch the girl hold it together, despite looking as if she could break so easy. If I were in her position, I might've been reduced to a blubbering mess.

 

“Thank you,” I finally said.

 

Miku looked confused. “For what?”

 

“For telling me that.” I inhaled steadily. “Everyone's just saying how sorry they are. But no one says it out of  _ empathy _ . No one really understands. But you do - you do - kind of. And I'm really thankful for that.”

 

She gave me a weak smile. “You're amazingly strong.”

 

I laughed. “No. I'm not. I'm just in denial.”

 

“I guess it's hard to think you're going to die soon when you feel perfectly fine,” Miku mumbled, turning away to continue filing through the clothes racks. “That's what Mikuo wrote in his letter to me. The last words he ever said to me.”

 

A letter? I hadn't thought much of that. I just imagined dying, and that was that.

 

Would Len want me to write him one? Would it even be worth it?

 

He always treated any kind of affection as a joke between us. Hugging or kissing was like ‘ewwww don't touch me you smell’.

 

“Hey, Miku.”

 

“Yeah?” She glanced away from the racks.

 

“Can you keep an eye on Len for me when I'm not around?” 

 

Like she understood what I meant, she grinned. “Of course. Of course I will, Rin.”

 

I grinned back, somewhat sincere. “Thank you.”

 

“It's the best I can do.”

 

_ It's the best I can do to make your death worth it. _

 

.

 

Then the last day alive came.

 

Another sleepless night made product to many drafted letters to Len. I decided to go with the soppy denouement and write him my last words. My last wishes. My last hopes. My last thoughts. My last everything. 

 

Some of the letters turned out bitter.  _ In a way I don't want to die for you, but I'm not that important, am I? Everyone wants you alive, Len. But not me. _

 

_ You won't even think much of this, will you? You won't even know how I felt in these last few hours alive. _

 

_ You would probably take what I've done for you for granted. _

 

But then I would remember Miku’s story. 

 

Somehow, in the end, I managed to write a bittersweet one, which was better than bitter or nothing at all. It was all I could do, really.

 

My feelings were just a swirling mess inside my chest, ready to burst.

 

It was weird to plan out your funeral, to plan what clothes you'll wear in the bottom of a deep, dark hole. It was weird to think that you'll be put under anaesthetic, and know you'll never wake up again.

 

It was weird. It was surreal.

 

The sun rose just as I finished my final draft letter, telling me that whatever was surreal now was soon going to be reality. 

 

It was time to face the last day of living. 

 

( _ Why? _ )

 

Mum was already awake, making breakfast, seemingly upbeat. Dad said he'd come by to say goodbye later. Work was more important - it always was.

 

A sweet smell hit me as I wandered into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. My stomach churned. I didn't want to look at food, or Mum, or anything or anyone really. I just - I don't know. I wanted to run away, selfishly enough. But I had nowhere safe to run to - the same thing would happen to me, as did Len.

 

“Good morning honey,” I heard Mum call cheerily, as if I wasn't going to die soon. 

 

It was crushing. It was like a crushing force, a realisation that she wouldn't cave and change her mind.

 

Len really was the more important one, wasn't he?

 

Why, why was I even thinking like this? Did I want him to die? God, no.

 

But… I didn't want to die.

 

“I'm making your favourite, Rin,” she continued. “French toast.”

 

Of course. Of course you would. Last night was my favourite dinner. This morning, my last meal, would be my favourite breakfast. Eating my favourite meals wouldn't make any difference to the fact that my death was awaiting me in about nine or so hours.

 

“I'm not hungry,” was my response. 

 

Mum glanced up at me, eyebrows furrowing. “Are you sure?” she inquired, “It's your last meal. You won't get to eat for the rest of the day.”

 

“It's not like it matters anyway,” I muttered. “Either way I'm dying, so.”

 

The corners of her lips turned down. “You know I don't like it when you talk about it like that.”

 

Oh, right. Yeah. She just liked to use the word ‘operation’, as if I would wake up normally afterwards. 

 

Sure, pieces of me will be in Len and other strangers who were lucky enough to afford not taking someone they loved’s life. But me, myself,  _ Rin Kagamine _ would be dead. Nonexistent. Gone.

 

I hate this.

 

“Well it's the truth,” I spat, tipping the rest of my water down the sink. I wasn't thirsty anymore. Just angry. Just- so, so angry. “It's the truth. I'm the one who's going to die - not you.  _ Me _ .”

 

Mum blinked, opened her mouth to argue against my very valid and correct point, but I turned away and stormed back to my bedroom.  _ People who aren't experiencing it won't understand. They will never understand. _

 

Once I was tucked away in the safety of my room, I crawled under the covers of the bed and cried for a good six hours.

 

Then time seemed to go too fast.

 

It was a blur of goodbyes and preparation and one-last-looks before I was in the car, on the way to the House of White and soon-to-be red.

 

Wasn't it weird, the idea of a final goodbye. What do you say, how do you think? “Goodbye forever, have a nice sleep?” “Thanks, you have a great life where you don't have to sacrifice yourself?”

 

In another place where things were right and just, people wouldn't have to do this. People wouldn't have to say goodbye forever like this.

 

“Rin, are you crying? Please don't cry, honey.” Mum reached over to touch my arm, but I moved it away.

 

Saying goodbye to Dad was probably the worst part. He was in and out like a slingshot. It was essentially, “Goodbye, Rin. I love you lots, alright? Thanks for being a great kid and all.”

 

Right. A great kid for agreeing to die for the better person, hey?

 

And that was that.

 

Mum watched me carefully in her peripheral. “Please, Rin.”

 

I snapped.

 

“Please what? Be happy I'm dying when I've hardly lived? As if you can say anything! As if you can say anything at all!” I exclaimed, my voice trembling. “You don't know what it's like, alright. I'm allowed to cry. You can take away my life, but not my feelings, Mum.”

 

The word  _ Mum _ felt strange. All my life I associated my parents with warmth and safety and comfort. But now- now they were mere strangers. They would go on with their lives as if I never mattered. 

 

Her eyes glistened, and something wet slid down her cheek. “You know I love you,” she began quietly. “You know I love you and I would have you both alive if I had the choice -”

 

“But you don't love me as much. So you have me die instead,” I interjected. “I find it hard to believe what you say. The fact that no one wants me -  _ alive  _ \- that makes dying probably worth it. Because I, as a person, have no worth. Only what's inside of me. But my existence - nothing.”

 

We’d pulled up in the car park. Mum was very still. I knew I'd gone far enough, so I opened the car door and stepped outside, ending the conversation. I felt a pang of regret, but a part of me was like a burning fire, screaming, screaming for anyone to save me and not let me be the one who has to be sliced open.

 

But I knew miracles such as those never happened.

 

After Mum recovered from her crying spell and notified the reception of my arrival, a nurse came round to explain the procedure. 

 

“We put you under a special twilight sedation as we don't want to use any heavy duty anaesthetics when retrieving your organs and blood for other patients,” she told us. She seemed hardly fazed, considering she was talking to someone who would be dead in less than a few hours. “Sometimes patients are vaguely aware of what's happening, but you're usually in a dreamlike state so you're not exactly sure what  _ is _ going on. You won't be aware of dying. Most people have dreams under this sedation.”

 

Well, that was really lovely to know.

 

The nurse gave us a sickly sweet smile. “You're scheduled to go into theatre in about an hour, so I'll leave you to say goodbye and start your preparation.” She promptly disappeared.

 

Then it was Mum and I again. 

 

It was silent for a while, before she eventually said softly, “I'm sorry, Rin. I really am.”

 

I didn't reply, just continued staring at my knees. 

 

“You're right,” she went on. “You're right to not believe in anything I say. I understand. But I just want to say I'm sorry. You deserved better than this. And you have every right to hate me - us - for this.”

 

Eventually, I dug my fingers into my pocket, pulled out the letter to Len I'd worked on all night.

 

I tossed it onto Mum’s lap.

 

She looked down at it, confused.

 

“When he wakes up,” I started carefully, “can you give this to him?”

 

Mum’s gaze softened. “Of course.”

 

“Give him the life you could never give me, for me,” I added.

 

She pressed her lips together, as if trying to suppress more tears. “Yes. I will. We’ll take care of him. We’ll make sure he’ll take care of himself, too.”

 

A nurse appeared, beckoning for me to come forward.

 

It was going too fast. Time was just slipping through my fingers.

 

I was sure there was more I had to say - but I couldn't remember. I couldn't remember it all. My mind had gone hazy, like my vision, as if I'd already been injected with the sedative. 

 

“I'm sorry,” Mum choked out.

 

My chest felt tight, like someone was squeezing and squeezing and squeezing. I couldn't breathe. 

 

Why, why, why.

 

“Apologising doesn't make it any better,” I sobbed. “It doesn't give me what I want.”

 

“I know,” she blubbered back. “I know and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry we’re taking everything away from you.”

 

But why, why, why.

 

_ Why. _

 

Why was  _ I _ never enough for anyone?

 

I stood up, rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand. 

 

“I love you, Rin,” Mum whispered. “Please don't hate me. Don't die hating us.”

 

But I couldn't say anything else. My throat had closed up. My lungs were burning from the lack of oxygen with all my crying. 

 

I didn't care who saw me. I just wanted everyone to know how  _ I  _ felt. Useless, worthless, invisible me.

 

I somehow found my way to the nurse and the operation room and the bed. They seemed apathetic to my wailing, merely shushing me and telling me that, “It was going to be okay.”

 

This was some sick joke, more like. 

 

The anaesthetist rubbed my arm soothingly. “Just a little pinch and you'll be out like a light, Ms Kagamine,” he advised. He gave me a reassuring smile. “You're very brave for what you're doing.”

 

I hardly saw how that was the case.

 

Something pricked my skin, and the pain made my breathing stall. 

 

“Now,” he continued casually, “tell me about that brother of yours.”

 

.

 

(end)

 

.

 

“Today's weather is really nice, isn't it, Rin?” Len asked.

 

He was right. The sun was bright and warm, the temperature was just right, and the sky was clear - a brilliant blue.

 

“Yeah,” I answered, before hesitating. “It's a pleasant way to spend my last time with you.”

 

He snorted and gave me a grin, slinging an arm over my shoulder. “The whole week is forecasted for good weather. Don't be so glum. Let's enjoy this while it lasts.”

 

I rested my head against his shoulder, dismissing my confusion for now.

 

_ Let's enjoy this while it lasts. _

 

“Yeah. That would be nice.”

 

_ But whatever you do, please don't forget me. _

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i dont own the lyrics to Silhouettes by Of Monsters and Men


End file.
